Gaal the Conqueror (17 page)

"Would you like the cage to go away altogether?"

"Are you kidding?"

Gaal looked steadily at John and said, "Be free, John McNab,
be free!" At once the cage was gone. One minute it had surrounded them, and the next it was nowhere to be seen. There
was not a sign of it anywhere. Eleanor still lay sleeping, and the
three of them were free under the sky, a sky that was becoming
brighter every minute.

Gaal looked at Eleanor's sleeping figure. "You gave her a
pretty rough time over the past little while. Will you tell her
you're sorry?"

John sighed. His eye no longer troubled him, but he was
unspeakably weary and still felt ill. He wanted to say, "Well, she
was just as bad as me!" Instead he said, "I don't think she really
wants me to. She doesn't think much of me. You should've
heard what she said."

"I did. But that's between her and me. I don't want to talk
about that with you, only about the ways you have grieved me.
Like something to drink?"

"You mean the wine of free pardon?"

"No, though that too would be a good idea, if you need
pardon, that is."

John hung his head. "Gaal, you know I do. You're just like
the Changer. And like

Gaal pulled a leather wineskin from the belt around his waist.
"This wine cost me all I have," he said. "But there's plenty of
it. Drink freely."

John raised the bottle to his lips, squeezing it gently as he
drank from it. A warmth filled his throat and a joyous trembling
swept through his limbs. Tears were flowing down his cheeks
as he handed the bottle back, and he said, "Oh, Gaal, thank
you. How can you be like that?"

A gold chain hung from Gaal's belt, and he lifted it carefully
and held it out to John. Hanging from it a deep blue stone shot rays of power. "I believe you lost this," he said.

John's hand reached out to seize it. As he released it, Gaal
said, "I give it back to you, but I want you to know that power
is dangerous. You are not yet strong enough to handle it well.
It could destroy you. Remember. Only use this stone when I tell
you to. Never use it to comfort yourself."

John stared at the stranger who seemed so close and so
familiar to him. "Who are you. I know you, yet I never met you
before."

"Are you sure?"

John hesitated. "You feel like-I mean you give me the same
feeling inside that I get when the Changer used to speak to
me."

"We are one."

"You mean you are the Changer?"

"I am in him and he is in me."

John stared at him, frowning. "You mean-"

"I mean just what I say."

Just then Eleanor struggled to a sitting position and rubbed
her eyes. She saw Gaal and cried out, "Gaal1 Look at me! I'm
not a dog anymore! I'm me again! You never saw me as a girl!"
She flung herself at him, hugging him fiercely. For several
minutes he said nothing.

Then he said, "I never saw you as a girl before? What about
last night?"

Eleanor pulled away then stared at him, a look of dawning
wonder on her face. She spoke slowly and hesitantly."Last
night? You mean when you came in my dream!" She turned to
look at John and her face fell. "I guess you won't want to, I
mean ..." She took a deep breath and began again. "What I'm
trying to say is-I mean I was pretty awful yesterday. Gaal made
me see it like it was ..."

"Oh, no. It was really my fault. I ought to have-"

"No, it wasn't. It was mine. Honestly, I don't know what made me say the things I did ..."

Like the quarrel, the apology went on for some time. It was,
however, pleasanter to listen to, and soon they were laughing
at themselves and their behavior. While the apologies lasted,
Gaal laid out a meal he had produced as if from crumbs left
over from the night before. Warm loaves that exuded a fresh
bread smell, along with fresh fruits and more of the restoring
wine that had given John such new life. For nearly an hour they
sat, eating and drinking.

"I must leave you soon," Gaal said at length.

"Oh, no! But why?"

"For the sake of my followers for one thing. Danger hangs
over them like a storm cloud, especially in the great and evil
city of Bamah. So far their enemies do not know their hiding
places. But their security will soon be ended." The children's
faces were grave. Gaal continued without explaining any more
of the situation in Bamah. "Remember to follow instructions
next time you are tested. Now listen carefully. Once you've been
caught in a cage of this sort (it's called a guilt cage-you can
sometimes get trapped in it even when you haven't disobeyed
instructions) what you do is to remember that I have set you
free-free from all guilt cages."

They stared at him, struggling to understand what he was
saying.

"What you must do in that case is simply walk through the
bars."

"You mean between them?" John asked.

"No, not between them, but through them. Try to realize that
there is nothing there and walk through where you imagine
you see bars."

"Ah, I see what you mean," Eleanor said. "You mean, it's a
sort of dream cage that might come round us, making us think
we're imprisoned."

Gaal smiled. "That's it. You've got the idea. You'll only be imprisoned if you think you are."

Eleanor said, "Gaal, may I ask you something else? Not about
cages, but about why you're here. And I don't mean here in the
forest, but in Anthropos. When I was a dog you said-"

"-I said I promised to tell you. Very well. But first, did John
say anything about what he saw in the village at the foot of the
hill?"

"You mean about those strange people who seemed as
though they were hypnotized? Yes, he did."

"They are like that because they chose to believe a lie. They
disobeyed," Gaal said. In so doing they placed themselves under the dark powers and lost the ability to think for themselves.
I have come to break the Circle's power, and to set them free."

"When will you do that-and how will you?" Eleanor's eyes
were shining.

Gaal drew in a long breath. "They will capture me."

"The Circle?" John asked.

"Yes."

"And then you'll trick them and get away."

"No, it won't be like that. Rather, they'll kill me."

The children stared at him blankly. After a moment John
said, "You're kidding. I mean, why would you let them? Aren't
you more powerful than they are?"

Gaal smiled. "As a matter of fact I am."

"I don't understand," John said.

"Perhaps my greatest power will be used to conquer deathto conquer it from the inside, so to speak."

Eleanor shook her head, bewildered. John protested, his
voice rising squeakily. "You're sort of the same as the Changer.
You said so yourself. And the Changer isn't the sort of person
that you can kill. I mean he doesn't even have a body."

"But I have. I shall be killed as a lamb by my enemy, the Bull
of Bashan. On the day when it happens you will see me gored
to death by a great black bull. In fact-well, I'll not bother to explain it now. You'll see for yourselves later on."

Eleanor's face wore a worried expression. "It sounds-it
doesn't sound very nice," she said, "and I'm scared."

Nevertheless there was something about Gaal's smiling confidence that reassured them, and in spite of themselves, and
even in spite of the next words he spoke, their fears subsided in
his presence. A warmth came from him that calmed anxiety.

"Remember we're in a war," he said. "It's a real war, and
there'll be casualties. I'm going to make sure you two won't be
hurt too much, but the danger is real. I still want you to take the
treasure to the Tower of Geburah, and to imprison Shagah."

He rose to his feet revealing the awesome strength of his tall
and powerful frame, and for several moments surveyed them
with a smile that was rich and warm. His smile now radiated joy.
John and Eleanor were smiling too. They had forgotten their
alarm at the mention of Gaal's death and were wishing things
would stay as they were forever. But the glow on Gaal's face
grew fainter, and he turned to face the woods behind them.
Slowly he began to walk away. They could never later explain
why they had not tried to accompany him. Instead they followed him with their eyes until he was lost from view in the forest.

And three, unnoticed by them at first, the book, the orb and
the key lay on the grass between them.

An oil lamp threw shadows round the sparsely furnished room.
Its red stone walls, like the floor they looked down on and the
ceiling they looked up at, seemed to glow in the feeble light,
giving the room a strange warmth. There were neither windows
nor doors, which was why the lamp was needed, for outside the
sun shone brightly.

Two trap doors, one in the ceiling, and the other in the floor
provided the only means of exit and entry. In two opposing
walls, circular holes six inches in diameter provided for ventilation and communication. From both of them cords emerged,
attached to bells suspended over the holes.

Bedding in shelved recesses in the wall, a single table and
four wooden chairs gave a Spartan air to the room. A grayhaired elderly lady sat in one of the chairs, leaning her elbows
on the table and staring at the sand as it trickled through the hour-glass in front of her. Her face was careworn and pale.
One of the bells rang, and she rose quickly to her feet and
hurried across to the opening in the wall. She said nothing but
placed her ear against the hole. Then she shook her head,
turned to speak into the hole and called out, "That is yesterday's password."

As she listened again she nodded and reached above her
head to a handle which released a bolt from the trap door in
the ceiling. On returning to her seat a smile of amusement lit
her wrinkled features, warming them with strange beauty. Ten
minutes later there were sounds of movement above the trap
door in the ceiling, which was lifted. A booted foot descended
through the opening, groping for steps carved in the wall. A
moment later a dwarflike creature began to descend, pulling
the trap door closed behind him. He was young. Yellow hair
fell from beneath a soft pointed leather hat, and a thin yellow
fuzz caressed his chin. His jerkin and trousers were also of
leather.

He grinned at the lady, bowed and said, "Greetings, Widow
Illith. You know the passwords well." He pulled a chair to the
table and sat down.

"Our lives may one day depend on it, Bomgrith," the widow
said. "But what news do you bring? What of the damage from
the earthquake?"

"Tell me of your news first. You look weary. Something troubles you."

"Only Authentio, my son. It still haunts me. I cannot get over
the fact that after all the years of his service as a runner he
should have been captured and enchanted because he was
concerned for our safety. Did you speak about him to Gaal?"

"Never fear. Gaal will see him soon after his return, but he
is far away at present. He has been visiting the mountain tribes.
It is said they have several pages copied centuries ago from the
missing book that is part of the treasure. Some say he will pass through the enchanted forest on his return. If so, he could be
in the forest by now."

"But he will try to help him?"

"Yes. He said so himself." He reached across the table to take
the widow's hands in his own. "Have no fear. It will not be long
before your son is here in this room. And if his loyalty to Gaal
is anything like that of his mother, the cause will have gained
by your request."

The widow sighed. "I trust so. Oh, that he could be delivered
from the spell. I never knew until now what it was to be free
again." Neither spoke for several minutes. Finally Widow Illith
looked up and said, "The mountain tribes have not succumbed
to the Circle of Light then?"

"It seems not. Perhaps the copied pages account for it. Its
words are known to be powerful."

"If their power is such as the power that carved the tunnels
and chambers in these walls, then it is power indeed."